To the Letter
by Lexarius
Summary: Originally titled "Well, You Told Me To." Vignettes with characters deciding to take things to the letter, but certainly, not in spirit. (Includes Dumbledore bashing. One-shots. First chapter written in just ten minutes. Unedited except for basic grammar.)
1. Change and Redeem

"Redeemable? Redeemable?" Harry slammed his hand on the Headmaster's desk. Saying he was absolutely angry would be like saying that the sun's temperature was warm-ish.

"Yes, Harry. They can, they must, change. Everybody deserves a chance to be redeemed."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, with an expression of complete confusion on his face. Dumbledore smiled like the grandfather he took great care to look like. Learning to cast wandless, wordless Confundus and compulsions was one of his better and most used tools to use, for the Greater Good, of course.

Harry sat down, and said, almost mechanically. "They must change, and be redeemed..."

"Indeed, my boy, and you will be the one to redeem them. Will you? For your family."

"...Yes... ... I will redeem them..."

"Now go back to your friends, my boy. You have so much to do."

"Yes... I will redeem them..." Harry stood up, and left the office. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore smiled as he watched the young man leave his office.

Had he seen Harry's face, that smile would have crumbled to dust.

* * *

All that summer, whole families affiliated with the Dark, and even more importantly, with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, began to disappear without trace.

In a seemingly unrelated note, both Vernon and Dudley Dursley broke their personal weight records...

* * *

Turns out, that sometimes, a strong will, a penchant for mischief, natural teenage rebelliousness, a slight resistance to mental magic, a dash of creativity, being raised as a muggle, and simple accumulation of righteous anger can have... interesting effects.

* * *

"Um... Harry, my boy... you wouldn't happen to know what happened to the missing persons?"

"I do, Professor. I managed to change them and to redeem them!" Harry seemed chipper than ever.

"What?" Dumbledore's glasses almost fell from his face. "What did you do?"

"Well," the teenage wizard said, with a spark of malicious joy in his eyes, "I studied a lot of transfiguration, I mean, with practice, I managed permanent animate to inanimate transfiguration."

Dumbledore couldn't take his eyes from Harry's green orbs, and he finally realized they were exactly the same color of the Killing Curse.

"By Merlin! You killed them!"

"No, Professor, I didn't kill anybody. I just turned into... this!" Harry took a piece of parchment from the desk, and in a purple and green flash, turned it into a smaller piece of colorful paper.

Harry put the paper in Dumbledore's hands. "I'm sorry, Professor, the offer in this one has already expired. I would need a recent sample to do a valid one."

Dumbledore looked at the paper, not understanding what Harry meant. "What is this, Harry?"

"A muggle invention. A very ingenious one. You see, Professor, when muggles buy stuff in a muggle store, the employees give the customers pieces of paper like this one. On the next trip, the muggle gives this back to the clerk, and get the merchandise at a discount, or get free stuff."

"Then... you..."

"I did exactly as you told me to, Albus, my old man. I changed them. I redeemed them. For my family, as you insist on calling the Dursleys." His smile was scary, Dumbledore could have sworn it actually had an edge. "Aunt Petunia didn't waste any time to get the coupons to the store. Free food!"

Horrified, Dumbledore stuttered, "We must find them and turn them back!"

"Good luck with that, Albus, the coupons are sent back to the makers of the goods, several companies with a workforce larger than the whole population of Wizarding Britain. There are thousands of coupons redeemed every day."

Albus held his head on his hands. "It must be done."

"I wouldn't bother. I think the coupons are shredded after passing through Accounting. To prevent reuse."

"Oh, Merlin, Harry. You have gone Dark."

"On your orders, Albus. And don't bother trying to Obliviate me again. I have already taken the liberty of making a few copies of that particular memory, gave them to several individuals, none of which are any of my very few friends here at Hogwarts, and Obliviated myself of that knowledge. If you try anything, they will send it to several parties, all of them very interested in deposing the de facto ruler of Wizarding Britain. So, Albie. My boy, what you will do about me is simple. Nothing. As always. I will go my merry way and deal with Tom should he manage to get a body again. As always."

Harry stood up, and while a Dumbledore still tried to understand what had happened, he left the office with a last shot. "Don't be like that, Albus. It was... for the Greater Good!"


	2. Chapter 2, Electric Yule Ball

_**Well, You Told Me To 2;  
The Yule Ball**_

* * *

This snippet is not related in any way or form to the previous chapter.

...I should be working on the next chapter of Tokyo-3 Arcana, but my muse insisted...

* * *

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. Your participation in the Yule Ball is not only expected, but mandatory."

"But…."

"No buts, young man. You will attend to the traditional Tri-Wizard Tournament Yule Ball. You better find yourself a date, you won´t be shaming Hogwarts by presenting yourself to the Ball without one, is that understood, Mr. Potter?"

Harry lowered his head, for all the world, beaten into submission. "Perfectly clear, Professor McGonagall. I will do as you say." He raised his eyes for a moment, and lowered them again as he asked, "Can I at least… chose…?"

The stern witch nodded, "Yes, Mr. Potter, the choice is entirely yours. As long as you attend to the Yule Ball with a date, and open the ball, you are free in your choice. Though I must impress on you that this is a very important choice for you to make."

Harry nodded, with a heavy air of defeat, and Professor McGonagall nodded to herself, satisfied to have done her duty to the school, and imparted the importance of doing the same into her student, though it was clear he wasn´t really happy with the situation, it would be very important for his future to learn that he had to do his duty.

Now, Harry Potter, in the other hand, was sick and tired of being the poster boy for "Do as you´re told", and decided he would do as he was told, _exactly_ as he was told, no less, no more.

But on _his_ terms.

* * *

The next few weeks Harry kept mum about his date for the Yule Ball. Hermione and Ron had pestered him with questions, but Harry stuck to his guns, and kept his mouth shut. "No, I won´t tell you anything, no one knows, and I like it that way." He said.

He was quite annoyed at the insistence of every student he was on speaking terms with, and more than a few he was not in cordial terms.

Speculation ran wild in the girls´ dormitories of every Hogwarts House. No one had admitted to being asked by the young wizard. Though more than a few hinted at being asked by the Fourth Champion.

This lasted until Harry himself publicly denied having asked the few witches who had tried to gain some notoriety, or to make their crushes/boyfriends jealous by saying Harry had invited them to the Ball.

"Enough!" he had slammed his hand on the Gryffindor Table, silencing the whole room with a single word. "I am tired of your questions! You´ll have to wait and see!" and with that, he stood up and walked away, disappearing from sight at the first corner, thanks to his Invisibility Cape.

From then on, he was not seen except in class.

Except for Potions class. Harry decided to take advantage of his status as a Champion to dedicate the Potion class time to Potions self-study, despite Hermione´s insistence for him to attend.

"Instructions are in the book," he said, mimicking Snape´s drawl. "the only real difference is that the book has a lot more charisma." He paused, "And less grease. And that I can read the whole thing and see if there are any safety instructions to keep myself from blowing up when the Slytherins throw something into my cauldron."

* * *

The day after the Ball, half Wizarding Britain wanted Harry Potter´s head, and the other half was laughing themselves silly.

Both for the same reason.

"That was ludicrous!" one wizard said.

"It was brilliant!" A witch elbowed the wizard in the ribs.

"He´s not so bad after all!" a second wizard slapped his thigh, roaring in laughter.

"I must admit I had no idea the lad could be so willing to make the Ministry look like fools."

"Well, he did, and I hope they fine him at least. That was a complete disrespect to our traditions!"

"After the way he was treated? Hell and damnation, man! I wish I could do the same!"

And so on.

* * *

"Where is your date, young man?"

Harry smiled at the Gryffindor Head of House. "Right with me."

Everybody looked at him as if he was crazy. "Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, with the sternest voice she was capable of. "You have to open the Ball with your date, if you are…" she hesitated, the Potter Family´s Cloak of Invisibility was a secret Harry guarded jealously. She only knew of it because Dumbledore had informed her about it. "Concealing your date, you will have to reveal her during the Opening Dance."

"Don´t worry, Professor, I will do a dramatic reveal. Just for the surprise."

She pressed her lips together in a fine line. "Very well. Take your places."

* * *

A few minutes later, the Champions entered the ballroom. Each one accompanied by their respective dates by the arm.

Except for Harry Potter, who walked in, apparently alone.

When the time for the Opening Dance came, all the eyes were set on him.

"Who´s he with?"

"I see no one with him…"

"Will she come later?"

"Is she Disillusioned?"

Harry took his place on the dance floor, hands in the pockets of his robe, smirking.

The music began.

Harry brought out his hand, showing a small fruit for all to see. Then he began to dance alone, holding the fruit as if it was a feminine hand.

"Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?"

The music stopped with a screech.

"What? This?" he asked with the fakest innocence in his face, holding his hand up. "This is my date. What´s the problem?"

"Don´t play the fool, Harry! You know exactly what Professor McGonagall means!" Dumbledore said, annoyed to no end.

"I don´t know what the problem is. She told me I had to bring a date to the Yule Ball, and do the Opening Dance with it. Do you want it? I can give it to you." He smiled like a devil. "Now, if there is a problem with my date," he took two other small fruits from his other pocket, "I also have these, but I 'm not gonna give them to anybody."

* * *

When he read the chronicle of the events on the Daily Prophet, Sirius Black roared in laughter. Happy to see the spirit of the Marauders lived in Harry.

In a big picture, right in the front page, Harry showed two figs on the palm of his hand.

* * *

 _ **Author Notes:**_

Yes, I know. It is a Shaggy Dog story, but in my defence, it is a nice dog.

I'm gonna let you get the joke for yourselves.

In the meanwhile, keep safe!


	3. Where Angels Fear to Thread

_**Where Angels Fear to Thread.**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

 _ **Note:**_ Harry Potter plays the role of Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Chapter

* * *

 _ **Undisclosed Location  
Death Eater Safe House**_

"I tell you, it will be easy. One of our spies listened to the McCrimmon girl at the Hogwarts Express, right when she confided to one of her blood-traitor friends that her family had buried their swords. Also several of their friends did the same, even though they are not Scottish. That means they have forsaken violence. Ready for the slaughter. Even if they want to fight, they are weak." The Death Eater smiled crookedly, his glee at the perspective of violence and torture inflicted upon his Master's enemies.

His companion's smile was just as nasty. "Then, I think we should invite the rest. Time for some fun times. The McCrimmons are either very old, or very young. Our Lord culled most of the family during the war. But there are still some pretty girls among them." He rubbed his chin, thinking.

"So, do you know where they are hiding?"

"No, not yet. But it's only a matter of time before she slips up. I had the chance to connect the Trace Detector to a map. As soon as the girl uses her wand, we will know the location."

"Good! I can barely wait."

* * *

Three days later, the map chimed. the young blood-traitor had used magic!

Immediately, he transcribed the coordinates, and Floo-called the rest of his friends. This would be a very fun night!

* * *

 _ **Undisclosed Location  
McCrimmon Clan Hideout**_

"Are you sure this is going to work, Grandfather?"

"I got the wards set just as we planned, Jamie-lad. Anti-apparition, anti-Portkey, the works, just like they did in the war. But layered in three sets. Center, outer, and middle. Just as she planned."

"Good, I don't want a single one to escape. It is time to erase their taint from the world."

"Oh, they won't, mylord. They won't." A nasty cackle followed those words.

Three pops signalled the departure of three men.

* * *

 _ **Somewhere in Scotland  
McCrimmon Ancestral Manor Grounds  
**_

The Death Eaters, forty seven in number, materialized out of the wards. And walked confidently towards the glowing line that marked the limits of the warded area.

"Too weak for the size of the place, don't you think?"

"Pfah, less work for the breakers. Come on, let's do it."

The wards were good quality, but very old. They would have failed by themselves in a couple of years. It was a matter of minutes to bypass them.

None of the Death Eaters realized it, but when the wards fell, another set of magical protections sprung into being, far behind them.

They advanced, eager to kill and torture.

* * *

"Middle wards have fallen." A voice announced.

"Outer wards active." Another answered.

"Center wards now active. Secondary enchantment powering down. Failure of secondary enchantment in thirty seconds."

"Everything proceeds according to the plan, protect your ears."

Three young men set their Muggle ear protections in place. Except for the wards and the now failing transfiguration, this was a completely non-magical operation.

It didn't take long before the secondary enchantment failed. A number of flat rocks, carefully set in inter-crossing angles, glimmered, hidden behind some dirt and fallen leaves, glued to a green and brown net. Changing back to their original shape and function. If it wasn't for the net, three words would be easily read on their surface.

Meanwhile, the outer and center wards power increased. The Death Eaters didn't know it, but they were trapped between two sets of powerful wards. Both were inert for as long as the middle ward functioned. It's failure activated the other two.

Their functions were different. Center protected the house and its occupants. However, the place was empty at the moment. Monitoring charms sent information to the current position of three young men, who had line of sight to the manor. The rest of the clan safely hidden at a place hundreds of miles away from the ancestral home.

Outer would keep the intruders from fleeing. Trapping them right into a killing field.

* * *

The Death Eaters advanced towards the house. One of them felt something pulling his foot. He was beginning to wonder what is was when his life ended in thunder, blood, and pain.

The others were paralyzed by the surprise. But didn't had much time to react.

A series of thunders around them deafened, while their bodies were torn to shreds.

The last few Death Eaters tried to flee, only to find themselves trapped in the killing zone. Scared out of their minds, they ran.

And died as their companions did.

* * *

Lord James McCrimmon, the youngest Head of House for Clan McCrimmon in five centuries, walked carefully to the ruined ground, with his two cousins at his side, ready to kill anybody who could still draw breath on the now destroyed area around the manor. The young Lord adjusted his (mostly ceremonial) two-handed sword at his back. The Claymore sword had been in his family for generations. Well cared for, the sword would be in the clan for centuries more, if he had something to say about it. Using his niece to set the bait for the Death Eaters had been a desperate gambit, but the lass was eager to do her part, for family and revenge. Tonight, many Dark families would have a taste of the pain they had caused.

He surveyed the area. There was nothing recognizable, trees, bushes, rocks, bodies, and even the ground had been torn to pieces by thousands and thousands of metal bearings.

Even with magic, it would take years to bring the ground back to its former glory. He shook his head sadly, for a moment. He hoped his ancestors wouldn't begrudge him the desperate measures he had to take to protect the still living family.

He picked up a still recognizable fragment, it contained two raised letters, "NT"; but he knew very well the rest of the text. "FRONT TOWARD ENEMY".

Grimacing, he dropped the fragment, and vanished it with a wand movement.

He was grateful to have learned the right way to transfigure Claymore mines into simple rocks.

* * *

 _ **Author Notes:**_

When I got the idea for this scene, I knew I had to reference a very particular Highlander. Jamie McCrimmon, my favourite Doctor Who companion. This is not a DW crossover, but I just couldn´t resist.


	4. Time for Harry Hunting

**_Time for Harry  
Hunting_**

* * *

Warning, things will be going violent later.

* * *

Piers Polkiss, a boy who could be unfavourably compared to a rat, snorted at seeing Harry sitting on a swing in the public park. He slapped the arm of his companion.

"The freak has come back, Gordon!"

The other young thug smiled widely, "Yeah, watch him, I'll get the others." And he bolted away, looking for the rest of Dudley's gang.

In a short while, they could all enjoy their favourite pastime. Harry Hunting!

* * *

The fourteen years old wizard brooded, despite the bright day. He had a lot to brood about. To be outraged at. To be angry about.

In short, Harry Potter had had a rotten year at Hogwarts, even worse than usual.

The God-Damned TriWizard Tournament has been a nightmare since the very beginning. He had dared to think that for once, with all the attention on the tournament, he would be left alone.

Stupid! Since when Halloween left him alone?

Every year. Every damned year! His troubles always began in Halloween. The stupid troll that had almost killed him, Hermione and Ron. The dim-witted creature had only been the herald of a year that had ended with him becoming a killer. In self-defense and accidentally, true, but no child should have to hear the screams of a man burning to death. Even three years later, he heard those screams in his nightmares.

Not so much this year, though... he had so much worse nightmares this year.

Second year, the stinking Chamber of Secrets. Beginning with that hateful cat being petrified, becoming an outcast because he happened to be bilingual. As if being able to hold a somewhat intelligent conversation with a snake was a sign of evil. But the worst part of the year had not being fighting for his life against a shade of Voldemort and a stupidly gigantic snake that could kill him just by looking at him wrong.

No. The worst part was his best friend… no. Now he realized Hermione was not his best friend. She was actually his only friend... He sneered. For all Magical Britain was more fickle than a weather vane in a storm, praising him as a savior one minute and denouncing him as a future Dark Lord the next. He should have learned the lesson back in Second Year...

The next Halloween had been weird. Believing he was the target of a mass murderer who could strike him down, only to find out later that the man was actually, not only innocent, but family. And then the chance to be free of this prison for good had been cruelty ripped from his hands at the last moment.

Harry's fists closed as if he was ready to strike back at the world. He kept on looking down to the ground, as if force of will alone could make it explode.

He forced himself to relax. But he couldn't let go of his anger. He felt the handle of his wand, hidden in his pocket. He breathed deeply.

The events of Fourth Year replayed themselves in his mind. If he had the chance, he would get a brick and show the Goblet of Fire just what he thought of it.

Halloween again. The blasted cup spat out his name, starting the worst year of his life. Accused of cheating, ostracized by the whole school. Including of course, the staff. He had never been so alone in his life. Hermione had been the only friend he had.

Everybody else had denounced him as a cheater. Until, of course, he had prevailed over the dragon. Then it was all smiles and congratulations. Hypocrites.

Bah! They could put those fake smiles where the monkey put his nut. If he had responded with his own smiles it was simply as a defense mechanism. Not the time to say what he really wanted to say.

Again, he realized his fists had closed. With an effort, he willed his fingers to relax. He breathed deeply to calm himself.

Then he remembered the second task. Forced to rescue the one who had betrayed him.

* * *

Unknowing of the gang gathering, Harry kept on brooding.

Rescuing the traitor had been humiliating. Especially once the Rumour Mill had began to spin. Now many students though he and Ron were a couple. As if!

Yes, he would get that brick and put it to good use.

His breathing was becoming ragged, as if he had run a mile. But no. He was not tired. He forced himself to breathe.

* * *

"There he is." Dudley Dursley smiled, he looked at his accomplices, "He's been having nightmares. About some guy called Cedric."

The others, far enough to be sure their victim couldn't hear them, snickered, "What? His boyfriend?"

"Sure! Why not?" Dudley nodded with a smirk.

* * *

In the meanwhile, Harry had worked himself into rage.

At his rotten luck, at the world, at the pure injustice of his life. Everything.

The fickleness of those who should know better. The undeserved reputation of a hooligans, while the true vandals were spoiled rotten by their families, the murdering psycho who would keep in trying to kill him until he succeeded, the prison he was shoved back each summer. The constant abuse.

Two minutes later, he would have calmed himself down to manageable levels.

He had not two minutes.

Dudley and his gang chose that precise moment to pick on him. Trusting that their favourite victim was always weak, always.

* * *

Two minutes.

* * *

Dudley had been laughing when they announced their presence to the lonely boy they had bullied freely for over ten years. "Hey, Harry! Guess what time is it! It's time for Harry Hunting!"

Harry turned around; surprised, yes. But there was something strange in his eyes... Behind the round, broken frames of his eyeglasses, Harry´s eyes were not wide in terror, but narrowed dangerously. "No, Dudley." He said, with a gravelly voice.

"No what? It is time for you to run! When I say its time for Harry Hunting, its time for Harry Hunting!" He looked at his accomplices, safe in the knowledge that five versus one were good odds.

Then, Harry bolted away. The five teenagers pursued him, but the lone boy was very quick. He managed to stay barely on sight of the group, who ran after him, laughing and whooping. Enjoying the chase.

Potter led them to the last piece of natural forest in the Little Whinging area. And once inside it, he kept on running. Gaining some small distance on the group. Every-time they were sure they had him, Harry managed to run just a little bit faster. He zigzagged between the trees and bushes as if he had spent his whole life there.

"Where is he?" Dudley panted. Leaning on his knees, trying to recover from the run.

"I don´t know." Piers looked around, so intent on finding Harry he didn't realise he was very far away from the streets of Little Whinging.

Gordon pointed at some bushes at the other side of a clearing. "There's something moving there."

They surrounded the bush, approaching as silently as they could, trying not to snicker and alert their prey.

Communicating with gestures, the gang decided to have Piers make noise to scare Harry into trying to flee, while the others caught him and hold him for Dudley to pummel him into submission.

A good plan.

One they had enacted more than a few times in previous years.

However, it was a plan that hung on a minuscule, but crucial detail.

Having a scared prey.

Any other possibility was inconceivable.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry hid on the high branches of a tree.

Watching, waiting.

He smiled crookedly. He felt elated at finally having an outlet for his anger. He weighted the rock he had picked up before climbing the tree.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the gang's favourite pastime had ceased to be fun.

Well… there was somebody having fun, but it was not them.

They limped blindly through the forest, trying to escape their tormentor.

There were a couple broken bones already. An arm and a hand useless.

And every time they stopped to rest, stones would hit them, with enough force to break skin or bone.

This time, the stone hit Gordon on the shin, breaking the bone. He could flee no longer. A quick exchange of looks, and the others decided to leave him behind. Gordon screamed his lungs off, begging and threatening the others to come back and help him.

Useless.

They left him where he had fallen, hoping Potter would be delayed for long enough to escape from this unending forest.

* * *

Harry Potter was having fun. It was the best day he could remember in a long time.

Yes, it was time for "Harry, Hunting."


End file.
